produce great
characters. Homer's heroes, like the eminent figures of Grecian history,
are of little moral force. Where the correct state of mind is to have
_point de zele_, as at Paris and Athens, mankind may avoid the
ridiculous, but can scarcely reach the sublime. Where the guiding force
is some clear idea, men may rise to some signal effort, like the battle
of Salamis or the French Revolution; but intellectual impulse has none
of the durability of moral impulse, and the fibre of resolve is soon
relaxed into languid discontent. Thus much may be said of Hellenism in
excess. Yet its services are immense. The social and material progress
of the world requires free play of thought, a certain boldness and
open-mindedness of inquiry; and for this we look rather to the spirit of
the _audax Iapeti genus_--the Hellenic spirit--than to the firm-set
minds of the sons of Shem. And, on the contrary, whatever may be urged
against Hebraism in excess, it is all the better for human life that men
should have the capacity for emotional depth and fervour, for tenacious
adherence to some high moral purpose. In these days of clamour and
dispute we need a diffusion of the Hellenic spirit to enable us to look
out on things exactly as they are, and to deliver us from fads and
fatuous agitations. But in these same days of weak convictions we need a
measure of Hebraic ardour and Hebraic fortitude to make our conduct
answer to what we see, and to prevent our seeing from ending in thoughts
and words.

What is principally needed is a blending in just proportion of the two
spirits. We want Hellenism for knowing and enjoying, Hebraism for
acting, loving, and hoping. "Without haste, without rest," should be our
maxim for progress. And that is equivalent to saying that neither the
Hebraic zeal nor the Hellenic repose can of itself satisfy our needs.

This blending could be obtained, more than we now seek to obtain it. The
leopard cannot change his spots, and the human being cannot wholly rid
himself of his congenital qualities. Nevertheless culture and habit are
second nature. There is scarcely a disposition of mind or manner of
sentiment into which we cannot bring ourselves by steadily encouraging
it. The faculties of the mind are like the muscles of the body. They
shrink to nothing if not exercised; they can be exercised symmetrically;
or some can be exercised at the expense of the rest. What we want is a
school culture, and a self-culture, which